


Redemption

by wordstowords03



Category: The Vampire Diaries & Related Fandoms, The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Multi, Smut, Vampires, Violence, Werewolves, Witches
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:08:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23661313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordstowords03/pseuds/wordstowords03
Summary: Mystic Falls has run amok long enough. Disrupting balance, hiding murders, and now a burning council? The Uppers aren't pleased.  The only way to satiate them? A cleansing redemption.Enter Ada.Ada has one purpose: to restore the balance and reinvent Mystic Falls. Armed with intoxicating blood and a fate chiseled in stone, her presence will challenge everything the people of Mystic Falls believe.Not to mention, her presence will challenge him.(Takes place at the beginning of season 4. Uses inspo from the books, but roughly follows the show. With creative liberties, of course.)
Relationships: Bonnie Bennett/Original Male Character(s), Caroline Forbes/Klaus Mikaelson, Caroline Forbes/Stefan Salvatore, Caroline Forbes/Tyler Lockwood, Damon Salvatore/Original Female Character(s), Elena Gilbert/Damon Salvatore, Elena Gilbert/Stefan Salvatore, Rebekah Mikaelson/Stefan Salvatore
Kudos: 17





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Creative liberties taken with characters, ships & plot events. Takes place at the beginning of Season 4.

Dull.

  
The whole town was dull. 

  
And this is the place we’ve been watching? She scoffed.

  
A part of her wanted to call the HQ and laugh. All those years of evidence – of trails, of murders – led them here? To a town that, by all means, was small and dreary and dull.   
Lame.

  
Oh, she supposed that was hardly fair. Her boots touched the town’s pavement. It’s take time to scratch Mystic Fall’s veneer. If she was lucky enough, her boots might survive her mission. My God, she might survive her mission.

  
The sky rumbled overhead. A bolt of lightning danced across the sky and plump, grey clouds hovered with impending rain.   
She rolled her eyes to the sky, lifted her hands in surrender. 

  
“My bad, my bad. Keep your hair on.”

  
A streak of bright yellow parted the clouds; a beacon of forgiveness.

  
Not that forgiveness mattered: she was designed for this mission. Her purpose in this dull, dreary town was important. Afterall, HQ wouldn’t have deployed her here unless it was truly dire; a threat to society’s delicate balance of supernatural and humanity.

And an explosion that obliterated a new, supernatural-seething council? That was dire. 

  
Now, it was up to her to restore things. Balance, harmony, equilibrium – whatever. She had to remedy Mystic Falls, at a grave cost.

  
Not that there was another breed of cost, not really.

  
Her chest heaved – a quick, succinct hiccup. She suppressed it and cast a fretful glance to the sky. The sun’s ray was obscured now; devoured behind the clouds once more.

  
A fierce wind whipped through the trees. Tendrils of auburn hair danced amid the gust, sending her essence spiraling through the air and into town.

Wherever Mystic Fall’s supernatural beings rested – vampires, witches, hybrids or werewolves – they would soon stir.

  
And she was ready – she had to be.


	2. Chapter 2

Mystic Grill – could this town be any more obvious?

Mystic Falls, mystic creatures, and now… mystic food?

Ada groaned into her menu.

_Of all the places they could’ve sent me! New Orleans, L.A., somewhere sandy…_

Unfortunately, those locations were reserved for big leaguers: the _elite_ chosen ones. She was merely chosen. No benefits, no glory; just death and a small-town miracle.

“It’s all so weird,” pitched a feminine voice behind her. Ada tilted her head to the side, angled her head to catch a reflection in the bar mirrors.

Behind her sat a group of girls: one blonde, two brunettes. Or, she should say: two vampires, one witch. They sat across from one another, heads bent in anxious conversation.

“Of course it’s weird,” the witch insisted. “You _died,_ Elena. It’s a whole lot of weird.”

“Okay, it’s more than that,” Elena, the brunette, replied. “The bloodlust, the feeding – it’s all a problem – but I just I feel so… anxious.”

The witch’s eyes flickered between Elena and the blonde vampire. There was a guilt there, kindled and ripe.

“It’s probably just the funeral service tomorrow,” she supplied and poured over her menu.

Elena leaned forward.

“You sense something, don’t you? If you do, you’ve got to tell us, Bonnie.”

Bonnie touched a hand to the side of her head, sighed in resignation and nodded.

“Ever since this morning, I’ve felt this new disturbance in town. It feels like magic, but not at the same time. It feels old and pure, but I can’t – I’m sorry, this isn’t making sense.”

“Well, if you ask me, Mystic Falls could use something _pure,”_ the blonde vampire said. “Enjoy it before it flees.”

“That’s just it. It doesn’t—”

“Hey, guys.”

A deep, masculine voice rippled behind Ada. In the mirror she could just discern the rugged, squared shape of his jaw and the warmth of his eyes. His honey-blonde-brown hair stirred as slid into the booth and wrapped an arm around Elena.

“Stefan, you’re just in time! We were just discussing purity. I think that –”

The blonde vampire droned, but Ada’s eyes narrowed.

If it wasn’t two of Mystic Falls greatest antagonists.

Elena Gilbert and Stefan Salvatore.

Sure, she’d read the case file, but she was witnessing them in action. For being a newly turned vampire, Elena was holding her own. Of course, she had a particularly pale pallor; pale for a vampire, that is. Lightning zapped in her brain, attempting to puzzle a missing piece.

The lightning lashed out, aiming for Elena. Her invisible strike wriggled around her thoughts, riffled for a silver of a clue.

_Ah, animal blood. For a newbie? That’s a new one._

Ada’s eyes rested on Stefan – controlling, virtuous Stefan.

Elena’s forehead wrinkled. Bonnie stiffened across from her and whipped her head toward Ada. She quickly broke her hold on Elena’s mind and bent toward her menu.

“Bon, what’s wrong?”

“I just…” She could sense her eyes searching, could imagine her gripping the side of her head. “It’s nothing.”

The group settled and drew their attentions to food.

“Ignorance is bliss,” Ada said softly and lifted a hand to flag her waiter.

“What’ll it be, sweetie?” Her waitress inquired, doe eyes wide.

“Hm, Mystic Burger with... mystic fries, please.”

Afterall, she’d be here awhile. Might as well indulge in a little “mystic” cuisine.

***

Too many cops were crawling the scene for Ada’s taste. She’d visit the explosion site later, after the funeral service and melee surrounding the arson calmed. She could sense things then, embrace the stories stirring within the ruins.

Instead, she began combing through Mystic Falls. From grills, to cafes, to waterfalls – the mystic theme stuck. She had to hand it to them: when the townspeople committed to a brand, they sold it. Of course, they also sold souls – too many lately for HQ’s liking.

When Ada reach Mystic Falls Cemetery, she paused. Willow trees furled around headstones and the lush, green undergrowth covered the ground.

She walked over to the Gilbert plot, greenery popping and crackling beneath her feet. She knelt before the stones and bent her head in a swift, silent prayer.

Her eyes drifted to the sky.

“I figured they deserved a few words. Elena would cause anyone chest pains, even in death.”

Black streaked across her vision, obscuring an ominously blue-gray sky. A willow-tree branch rattled in the distance and Ada’s eyes followed the sound.

A black raven perched on a tree branch, its head bent inquisitively. It seemed to mock her, question her.

A cool, electric feeling undulated through her body. It was striking, dangerous – like lightning piercing through cold, icy water. It was tempting sensation, one that beckoned passion and adventure; one she never experienced before.

The raven, too, seemed to pause. He waited only a moment more before vocalizing a shrill caw. Then, off he flew.

As he disappeared into the tree, so did the electricity. Ada clutched her chest at its loss. It was a strange temptation, uncharted, unexperienced.

Though new and unfamiliar the sensation was, one thing was certain: she craved to feel it again.


	3. Chapter 3

A memorial, a memorial… When was the last time she was required to dress for a _memorial?_

Her kind: they didn’t attend funerals or memorials. They prevented them, discouraged them. If they performed their duties correctly, death was unnecessary. With such a distinct lack of death, dark wardrobe choices weren’t her top priority.

Besides, black was hardly her color.

Nevertheless, she sported it. A modest dress, with a sweetheart neck line and a knee-length flare. It caused the eccentric auburn-russet tones in her hair to pop as it draped loosely over her shoulders. She observed herself in the mirror. She traced her petite, curvy figure. Then, her hips, her stomach, her neck and screeched to an abrupt halt at her eyes.

They were smaller, sensual, soulful. With distinctive golden coloring. When expelling energy, they glistened and glowed like sunshine.

 _No shining today,_ she scolded. Mystic Falls was too observant, nosey. Ada couldn’t risk the unneeded attention; she wasn’t ready to reveal her intentions just yet. She needed to canvas the town in its entirety, scope out all of her key players.

The memorial was her chance.

Then, her _real_ work could begin.

Entering the church sent her senses afire. Tension, blood, conflict, mourning – it spiraled around them. Her modest heels clacked against the wood flooring and quickly drew her to a pause.

_Blood._

Her eyes scanned the mass of incoming Mystic Falls mourners. Then drifted up to the rafters, to the upper church balcony. Something tingled in her chest. A movement on the balcony, a head. She needed to get closer. Her feet started to move, to locate the stairs when she knocked into something – or someone – sturdy.

“Whoa _-ho_ there.” Hands captured her waist, steadied her. An emergent tingle resonated in her body: electric, cool. The feeling – she felt it before. It was unmistakable. “Where are _you_ off to in such a hurry?”

Sarcasm oozed from his tone. Words were heavy under his tone, sharp and condescending. Almost like his eyes – a rich, frozen oceanic blue. The light streaming through the church windows attempted to lighten them, to christen them with a green. They mirrored tropical waters; glaciers melted.

Her eyes drew away from his, skirted along his chiseled jaw and messy raven hair.

 _Raven._ The word throbbed in her mind. _Raven._

“Oh, just admiring the church,” she supplied, hoping it sold. She was a miserable liar. All of her breed was.

She pointed toward the balcony. “I was curious if there’s still an organ around here. I’m something of a player.”

“So am I. A player, that is.” His eyes widened conspiratorially. “Sorry to disappoint, but no organ. Last one burned in the church fire –”

“—of 1864,” she finished.

He cocked his head, inquisitive like a bird.

_Like a raven._

Another throb.

_Shapeshifter. Raven. Vampire?_

Her mind's eye squinted.

“Oh, we have a history buff in our midst. Is that the reason you’ve so _graciously_ _graced_ us with your presence?”

“Redundant, but no. Though it’s certainly part of it.” Hedging along the lines of truth was commonplace. Stray just far enough away from the truth to protect the mission. _Always_ protect the mission.

He stepped back from her and shoved his hands in his pockets. He looked perturbed, but curious, if his eyes were a tell. A smirk contorted his lips.

“Ambiguous, I like it. Tell you what I like less though – nosy visitors who don’t check-in on their way into town. And despite the _deliciousness_ of all this,” he freed a hand to loosely gesture to her body. “I’m not buying.”

“Oh, I doubt there’s anything I could sell to Mystic Falls that it doesn’t already have,” she teased. Her eyes flitted knowingly to his. “The way I hear it, this town has a variety of all things. Or should I say – creatures?”

His blue eyes flashed curiously.

She boasted a head tilt of her own this time and walked a slow, leisurely circle around him.

“In fact, there’s really only one thing this town would be interested in _buying.”_

“And what would that be?”

“A solution,” she said.

“There she goes, speaking in riddles again,” he said, angling closer. “I’d be interested in knowing exactly _what kind_ of a solution you’re proposing.”

“Oh, I’m just a nosey visitor, what do I know?” she teased in a sweet, innocent tone. “But, if I had to start somewhere? I’d start by solving that pesky bird problem. Ravens are everywhere.”

He lifted a dark brow, grinned.

“Nothing a card in the town suggestion box couldn’t fix.”

The stranger’s phone livened in his pants pocket. It whizzed and buzzed until he reached for it, eyes widening with urgency.

Lightning flashed in her mind – quick, succinct – and swiftly sought the stranger’s mind.

_Damon. Vampire. Raven. Elena._

_Salvatore Brother no.2._

He winced slightly and drew his eyes to hers. Where most would flinch away, he bent forward, his bird-like intrigue piqued. She fought against the electric-cold shiver that rolled through her body. The feeling she longed from since the graveyard taunted her, distracted her.

It had to end.

“Go ahead, help her,” Ada said and turned toward a church pew, desperate to break his stare. “She needs you.”

Damon’s hand darted out to capture her arm. He tried to capture her eyes again, but she refused. It was too telling – too soon.

“Don’t you even _think_ about skipping town yet. I’m not finished with you.” She stifled the urge to meet his gaze.

A light zap trickled down her arm, forcing his hand to fall away. She could sense his obvious surprise and brandished a smirk of her own.

“Wouldn’t dream it.”

***

Throughout the service all she could focus on was the church balcony. Even as a obviously struggling Elena crashed and burned – from pew, to stage, to pew again – hugged her troop, the urge to investigate remained.

_Something’s up there, something’s up there._

Throughout the service, she felt eyes on her back. Whether they were Damon’s or Bonnie’s remained unsure, but the weight of them blistered her thoughts.

 _Damon saw too much,_ she thought _. I shouldn’t have said that. Why did I say that?_

Her mind drifted to the sensation again. That cool, cool electric pinch that made every nerve ending in her body sear to life. Maybe it was from being around a vampire, she reasoned. HQ told her they’d pique her interests, test her resilience. Afterall, her blood was a signal to them, it made sense that she was experiencing strange sensations. It was nothing more.

_Yes, but did you react to Stefan like that?_

She pent her lips into a pout.

“No,” she whispered. _No lies, remember? Not even to yourself. No distractions either._

Tyler Lockwood shoveled onto the stage. He was a massive sort, fitting on his hybrid status. He spoke ruggedly, though his tone carried something more. The nagging pinch in her chest returned.

The air whizzed with electricity and before she could find her bearings, the church teethed with chaos. A weapon embedded itself in Tyler’s chest, and mourners screamed and collapsed beneath the pews. A man darted from the church balcony, weapon in tow.

A fire lit behind Ada’s eyes. It burned hotly and spurred her toward the Church exit.

_I’m trying to restore balance, **not** create more work._

She vaguely saw Damon slink in pursuit of a man. Even at Vampire pace, he was moving with urgency. Ada shed her heels and shuttled to the back of the church.

Damon and the man wrestled: limbs seeking limbs, nails seeking nails. She saw the offender reach into his belt, grapple his hand around weapon.

“Damon, _move_!”

Damon feigned a startled glance in her direction, which provided the perfect opportunity for Tyler’s assassin to embed wooden bullets in his chest. He made quick work of discarded Damon and hurried into one-door truck.

Sparing a withered glance at Damon, Ada darted to the car door and seized the assailant’s arm. His bleeding hands reach for a weapon.

“Don’t bother,” she hissed. “Whatever you’re after, it’s over.”

He scoffed and grappled the wheel of his truck.

She was vaguely aware of Stefan in the melee, forging his way to his discarded brother.

“Obviously you didn’t _hear me.”_ She slapped a hand to his jaw, tilted it to face her. His brown eyes mingled with confusion and the slightest hint of surprise. That fear only increased as her eyes illuminated golden rays, swirling and glittering in the space between them. “You’re not needed. Pack your shit and get out of town. You have 6 hours. _Go.”_

She shoved away his face and darted away from the truck. It roared into the distance, leaving the memorial victims behind. Damon stirred behind her. He cast her an inquiring look, then fixed his attentions on his brother.

“Don’t… let… her… leave…” he grumbled through his agony, blood dripping from his lips.

As Stefan’s appalled face met hers, she waved her fingers in a tingling good-bye and disappeared. A golden luster remained in her wake.

“Who the hell was that?” Stefan gaped, staring at the now-empty space.

“That’s what we’re going to find out,” Damon said and gripped his chest before re-collapsing on the ground.


End file.
